Debris
by EmeraldWinter
Summary: Peeta Mellark tried to live as normal a life as a teen heartthrob could in Hollywood. Sometimes it was just so damn hard. And he never anticipated Katniss Everdeen, a young explosive expert at the LAPD, to enter his life and change everything. AU


**Debris – Chapter One**

The circling blue radiating atop the police cars reminded him too much of the invasive flashes of the paparazzi's cameras- something no one in Hollywood ever got used to. Peeta Mellark had been acting for over a decade and he still struggled with the temporary blindness that always accompanied having over a dozen cameras clicking all at once. Those bright white flashes from the bulbs didn't belong in some places, like the airport, when departing a plane, or the grocery store, while buying a box of Wheat Thins – just like these blue lights didn't belong outside the studio.

He glanced over at Johanna, whose eyes looked even bluer in the light. She was cracking a joke to their director, the legendary Caesar Flickerman, but her laughter didn't reach her eyes. He didn't blame her. He was scared too.

When he entered the studio this evening, he didn't expect all of this. He thought they would discuss their travel plans for the few weeks _Reached, Part 2_ would premiere across the world, then they'd watch a pre-screening together. It was almost textbook now, considering they'd done it three times before. But this time- this time was different.

The whole cast had been chatting quietly while Caesar droned on and on about their itinerary. No one paid much attention. They were really only there to see the movie. Peeta both loved and hated pre-screenings. He loved them because he got to see if he fucked up a scene before all the fans did, but he hated them, because he hated watching himself on screen. As Caesar was wrapping up, the fox-faced receptionist had burst in with security, telling everyone to evacuate the building immediately. Security kept whispering something about a bomb.

"It's most likely nothing," he overheard Johanna say. "That brainless receptionist probably made a mistake- misheard the caller or something." Peeta wanted to believe her, he really did, but as the cops stormed the building, guiding the bomb sniffing dogs by their leashes, he believed her less and less.

His eyes were glued to a scraggly middle aged man who gruffly barked out orders, clearly in charge. The man held a tablet in his hand, watching the progress his officers made over a video feed.

Peeta edged closer to the yellow crime scene tape to see if he could sneak a peek at the screen. After a few moments, he saw what were clearly pictures of small cylinders of C-4 displayed on the tablet. The men inside were sending their boss the images while they communicated over the radio. Peeta kept hearing the words, "Call her. Call her."

Chaff, the head of the studio's security team elbowed past Peeta and ducked under the tape. He didn't venture far, respecting the LAPD's control over the situation, but he called out to the man with the tablet as though he were an old friend.

"Haymitch, did they find anything, old man?"

"Chaff," the man, Haymitch, said, shaking Chaff's hand. "We've found three so far. My men think there's more."

"Bringing somebody in?" Chaff asked, glancing at the photographs Haymitch was showing him.

"The best."

"Aw, isn't that nice?" a voice said. Haymitch and Chaff turned to sound, Peeta's eyes following their gaze. A beautiful girl ducked under the tape, her braid swinging over her shoulder. Peeta's breath caught in his chest. There was something about this girl, an intensity that made it impossible for him to look away. He couldn't take his eyes off her dark hair, her olive skin, her willowy figure, clothed in an LAPD jacket and dark pants, her breath, puffing out of her mouth into the cold night air, but mostly, he couldn't look away from her eyes. Her dark, piercing eyes.

"Well, that was quick, sweetheart"

"I was already on my way," she explained, clapping Haymitch on the back. "The department sent me not too long after you guys left, just to play it safe. You know, given the location." Her eyes flitted up to survey the cast and crew, lined up behind the yellow tape. They lingered on Peeta for a moment. He felt his cheeks flush.

"Chaff, this is Katniss Everdeen, our EOD expert at the LAPD," Haymitch said, almost proudly. Peeta suspected he just liked to see the look on people's faces when he introduced such an attractive young woman as the person who would presently disarm the explosives. Peeta wasn't expecting to see such a beautiful girl. Hell, he wasn't expecting to see a girl, period. He vaguely wondered if that made him sexist.

"Pleased to meet you," Chaff said, kissing Katniss on the cheek. Peeta saw her eyes widen for a moment, then settle into a scowl. He suspected that she did suffer some sexual harassment in her field, as did Chaff, by his antics. Peeta knew the man well enough to hear the smirk in his voice. Then, he noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. He could have been imagining it, for the main source of light was coming from the top of the police cars, but he could have sworn it was there. Why did he find that adorable?

"What have you got for me?" Katniss asked, decidedly ignoring Chaff's advance.

Haymitch handed her the tablet, obviously relieved to give it to someone of a younger generation. He was clearly old school. "We've got explosives in… four rooms now, hidden in the projectors suspended from the ceiling," he explained as Katniss scrolled through the pictures, new ones appearing periodically.

She pulled a radio from her belt and synchronized it to the correct channel. "Make sure not to touch the computers in the room," she ordered into the device. "Turning on the computers will probably activate the projector, setting off the explosives."

"How the hell would that work?" Haymitch asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"The projectors are programmed to the computers, so, based on these images, the bombs are likely set off one of two ways," Katniss explained. Peeta inched a bit closer. This girl was smart- that much was obvious.

"The first would be via electrical current. When the projector receives the information from the computer, the current is split, sending electricity to the wires of the explosive, detonating it. The second would be mechanically, most likely triggered by the movement of the fan when it started up to cool the projector. I'll have to get in there to take a closer look to know for sure. I also suspect that once one blows, all the rest will too. Not a chain reaction from the explosives- they look too small for that. Could be that once a computer is activated, a virus is sent over the private network to all the other computers, activating them as well, detonating the other explosives. I don't see any other reason to have so many, since they're so small."

Peeta was awestruck. This girl was smart, beautiful, and obviously fearless, considering what she did for a living.

"I don't know what the fuck you just said, sweetheart. Just fix it," Haymitch said to Katniss, raising his radio to his mouth. He barked out more orders, telling his men to evacuate the building. Katniss was going in.

She paused for a moment, pulling a worn baseball cap out of the bag she lugged over her shoulder. She unceremoniously shoved it on her head, her braid peeking out from underneath.

Chaff leaned over to whisper in Haymitch's ear. Peeta had to strain a bit to hear the exchange. "What's with the hat?"

"Her dad's," Haymitch replied, rolling his eyes fondly. "She wears it every time she goes on a scene. She says he was the smartest man she knew. He died a few years ago. Says it makes her feel like she's with him, so she won't make a mistake. Superstitious bullshit, if you ask me, but she gets the job done, and she does it damn well."

As Peeta watched her retreating back, he felt bile rise in his throat. How could they just let her walk in there? She was still a baby, only twenty-one or twenty-two by the looks of her. She was too young. Too damn young to be doing what she was doing.

Katniss liked the quiet when she worked. There was a time when the quiet had made her feel alone, and she'd panic. But she learned. She learned that reading helped. Then shooting. Then disarming explosives.

She cautiously entered the first conference room. The ladder was already set up for her to ascend to the projector. Katniss shuffled up the steps, a bit awkwardly as she hauled her tool kit up with her. She straddled the ladder and surveyed the wires above her head.

She found explosives beautiful. She briefly wondered if that meant she should go on her meds again, but she couldn't help it. She found it tragically beautiful that such creativity could go in to something meant to destroy.

Based on her in person analysis, she could tell that the C-4 was triggered by the electricity provided to it by the projector. The fan was on the opposite side of the device, and Katniss did not see a connection, waiting to be broken when it started to rotate. Scenario one. She thanked her lucky stars that no one had turned on the computer to send an email or check Facebook. Although, everybody could do that on their phones now.

This was definitely a statement, she thought idly as she searched for the correct wire to cut. These explosives were too small to really be lethal, even with one in every room. The call to reception, indicating the presence of the bombs supported her theory. The time the explosives were detonated was irrelevant. If they had blown when people were in the building, fine. If they never went off, that was fine too, so long as the perps got their fifteen minutes of fame. She had seen the news cameras start to arrive when she pulled into the parking lot earlier. She had cursed at them under her breath for taking all the good spots.

Katniss pulled a wire away from the others, triple checking that it was the one she wanted. She held her breath as she sliced through it with her knife. Nothing happened. That's exactly what she liked to see. She exhaled slowly. On to the next room.

Katniss emerged from the building about twenty minutes later, sweating profusely. She didn't know why she sweated so much. She could do an hour of cardio, and she wouldn't be nearly as damp as she was when she finished working on a crime scene. Perhaps it was because she didn't have an emotional reaction to the explosives, so the impact emerged as a physical reaction. She never panicked or feared, she just sweated.

Haymitch and Chaff were still standing together, chatting as casually as they could under the circumstances. She caught their eyes and they looked at her expectantly.

"Finished," she said. "All six rooms."

"Six total, huh?" Chaff asked.

"Yup. One in every conference room." Katniss plopped her tools into the LAPD truck and stripped off her jacket, fanning herself with her hand.

"Well done, sweetheart," Haymitch said. "I'll send some guys in for one last sweep and then we should be good to go."

"If you need me, I'll be at my car," Katniss told him, ducking under the tape. She always kept a spare shirt in her trunk. She couldn't stand the dampness under her arms.

"Excuse me."

Katniss whirled around, her braid smacking against her face. She started when she saw who had called out to her. Peeta Mellark? She had had the biggest fan girl crush on him when she was in high school. She thought she had grown out of it, but obviously some of it lingered, based on the way her heart pounded. Why would he want to talk to her?

"This might seem out of nowhere, but, um, I thought I'd ask. Are you a baseball fan?" he asked, gesturing towards the cap, still perched on her head.

"Oh… Yeah, my dad raised us on it," she explained, pulling the hat off. Her braid was beginning to fray and some of the shorter strands of hair stuck to her forehead. Cute.

"I, uh, overheard your boss telling Chaff that it was your dad's, so I thought I'd ask. Cleveland Indians, huh?"

Katniss notice the mocking in his voice. "Hey," she said defensively. "We're not that bad anymore. We do well every… five years or so." She couldn't contain her smile quite the way she wanted to. Even she had to admit her team sucked. "You follow baseball?"  
Peeta pulled a cap out of his back pocket- his Cincinnati Reds hat.

Katniss raised her eyebrows. "You like the Reds? Not many people like the Ohio teams unless they're, you know, from Ohio."  
"I grew up in Kentucky, about twenty minutes from Cinci," he explained. "Are you, um, from Cleveland then?"

"My parents were born there. I grew up in Columbus."

"How'd you, ah, end up out here?" he asked, shuffling from one foot to the other. Was she possibly making him nervous? She was trained to read body language; all the signs were there, but she couldn't quite believe it.

"Grad school," she explained, pushing her own nerves down. "I'm studying at USC."

"Oh, that's a fantastic school, from what I hear," Peeta said. "My brother goes to CalTech."

"Another great school," Katniss replied.

The conversation petered out, and they stood, staring at each other for a few moments. The silence wasn't entirely uncomfortable, Katniss noticed. The air was too electric for that.

"Well," Peeta said finally, running his hands through his hair. "I should, ah, let you get going. You obviously had an eventful day. I'm, um, Peeta by the way. I don't think I said that."

He offered her his hand to shake. Katniss wasn't much of a hand shaker, but in the case of Peeta Mellark, she would make an exception. "It's nice to meet you Peeta," she said, trying to ignore the tingle that shot up her arm when their hands connected. "I'm Katniss."

"The pleasure's mine, Katniss. Thank you for all you did today. That was incredible."

Their hands remained clasped for longer than necessary, but Katniss didn't want to be the one to release them. She forced herself to let go, smiled at him one last time, and continued on to her car.

She scolded herself as she walked away. She was always in control. How could she let a teen heartthrob make her turn to mush? Although, she argued with herself, what was the harm? She would never see him again. And opening your heart, little by little, could be a positive thing.

She rummaged through the trunk of her Civic, unearthing her spare clothes. Regardless, she told herself. She needed to protect herself. She had learned that the hard way.

Peeta watched Katniss walk to her car, mostly watching the sway of her hips as she went. He felt Johanna at his side. "You're totally in love, aren't you?"

Peeta tore his eyes away, glancing at his costar. "What? No, I just thought-"

"Mmhmm," Johanna said, winking at him. "I know that look. Might want to be careful with this one though. She looks like one tough cookie."

"Johanna, does it really matter? I'll probably never see her again." How wrong he was.


End file.
